


melt like a snow cone

by nightbloomings



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Kaiju, Casual Sex, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1777024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbloomings/pseuds/nightbloomings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yancy is a corporate lawyer who likes to start his Friday evenings off by perusing the wine selection at his local liquor store, country by country. Chuck is a third-year university student with a penchant for hard-to-find Australian beer and yellow track shorts, and also for making snide remarks about random strangers' alcohol preferences. </p><p>Yancy is intrigued and they really shouldn't get along at all, but somehow they do—very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to my fab artist, [raven-wilde](http://raven-wilde.tumblr.com/)! we had pretty similar visions for everything from the start, plus she gave me some great ideas on how to flesh out a few scenes, and was overall a total pleasure to work with & get to know. please make sure to swing by and let her know how awesome the art is! art post on tumblr is [here](http://raven-wilde.tumblr.com/post/88715109401/art-for-melt-like-a-snow-cone-by-rahleighs-for).
> 
> title comes from [texico bitches](https://soundcloud.com/artsandcrafts/texico-bitches) by broken social scene.

 

Yancy couldn’t decide.

But he’d been standing in the Italy aisle for more than few minutes, and if nothing had jumped out at him by now, nothing was going to. He’d had a Barolo last week, and it’d been fairly good, for something less than twenty dollars, which is how he’d ended up in the same aisle again this week. What he really could’ve gone for would be a good Burgundy but it seemed pointless to spend that kind of money on just himself. That sort of thing was best left to client dinners, when the firm’s expense account was footing the bill, instead of his own bank account. So he moved on, to Spain.

He was examining the label on a bottle of Rioja when a flash of yellow in his periphery caught his attention. He looked up without lifting his head and his eyes fell on a pair of yellow track shorts, draped over one very nice ass.

Yancy let his gaze linger—the guy was leaning into the beer display, and was none the wiser—and let it travel up when the guy straightened. A tapered waist fed into broad shoulders in a black muscle shirt, the sleeves cutting just above some well-defined shoulders. The guy’s skin was a little flushed, with a slight sheen to it, and coupled with the outfit, Yancy figured he must’ve just finished a run or something.

Which also meant he had to be young, because no guy Yancy’s age would dare undo all the effort of a workout by drinking beer afterwards. That was the sort of shit Yancy had gotten up to in college, and even law school, for a little while—until he’d just plain run out of time for exercise; not the drinking, though. There’d always been time for that, somehow.

The guy must’ve sensed that he was being watched, because he glanced over at Yancy. Yancy quickly looked back at the Rioja, but he was pretty sure he caught a twitch at the corner of the guy’s mouth. Yancy put the bottle back and reached for the next one he saw. It was Tempranillo of some description, he’d caught that much, so chances were it was going to be fine. It didn’t really matter, because at this point, he was more interested in doing a walk-past.

“Doesn’t matter what you end up choosing,” the guy said over his shoulder as Yancy passed behind him. “All tastes like shite anyway.”

Yancy paused, clearing his throat to give himself a moment to process that accent—Australian. “Yeah, I guess it’s an acquired taste.”

The guy turned around with his six-pack of beer and Yancy gave him a quick smile from the side of his mouth. The guy’s eyes dropped to the bottle in Yancy’s hand, and then travelled up, slow, taking in his suit and tie and everything else, in a very obvious once-over.

A slight shiver skipped down Yancy’s spine and beelined it straight for his dick.

“That’s just what you say when you know a thing is shit, but you like it anyway.”

Yancy cocked his head to the side, and he considered eye-fucking the guy right back, but he’d already been caught doing basically just that. Seemed like a lot of ground to give up, for something that wasn’t going to amount to anything anyway. So he settled for a quick flick of his tongue across his lower lip, which definitely did not go unnoticed, before tipping his chin towards the guy’s case of beer.

“Enjoy your _beer_ , then, in that case,” he said, giving the guy a quick smirk before continuing to the cashier.

He felt a set of eyes on his back as he paid, but nothing came of it, and he headed for his apartment, his thoughts drifting back to that ass in those shorts.

XX

The following Friday, Yancy started his search in Spain, since he'd made a good find there the week before. It was his usual pattern, yes, but the fact that he'd made the effort to get to the liquor store at the same time as last Friday wasn't. He wasn't proud of it, but he'd actually waited around the office for a little while, killing time so that he didn't make it to the store too early.

It was pathetic, probably—definitely—but... well, he was intrigued. And the guy's ass had been _really_ good.

So when Yancy caught another flash of yellow from the corner of his eye, as he pretended to consider that same bottle of Rioja as before, he felt a little more justified.

He glanced up quickly, just long enough to catch the guy already looking at him, and then went back to reading the label on the wine bottle for the fourth or fifth time.

_White meats, oily fish, pastas... c'mon, kid, what are you waiting for..._

"Is this always how you spend your Friday nights, mate?" Yancy looked up, and the guy was walking—no, sort of sauntering—towards him, six-pack in hand. "At home, alone, with a bottle of wine?"

Yancy fixed the guy with a look, waiting until he stopped at the end of the aisle, a few feet away.

"How do you know I'm spending them alone?"

"I didn't, but thanks for the confirmation," the guy said with a smirk. "I enjoy being right."

"Well." Yancy paused, licking his lower lip, revelling in the way the guy followed the motion intently, same as he had the week before. "Better than sitting around in sweaty shorts, drinking shitty beer."

"Oi, this particular beer is anything but shitty. And hey, I do shower first." The guy winked and smiled from the corner of his mouth, and oh, fuck.

Dimples.

Yancy returned the easy smile and turned the wine bottle over in his hand a few times, looking back down at the label to buy himself a moment. He usually had a pretty good gut feeling about this kind of thing, had only called it wrong a handful of times, and this guy... well, he wasn't exactly being subtle.

Yancy put the Rioja back on the shelf, but instead of reaching for another bottle, he moved closer to the end of the aisle and rested his elbow on top of it, looking at the guy. He studied his face, taking his time and hoping to unseat him a little.

He cleared his throat finally, after a long moment. "Maybe we ought to just go grab a drink together then."

The guy cocked an eyebrow at Yancy. "Presumptuous, aren't we?"

He didn't give Yancy much to work with, but Yancy hadn't felt a negative shift in the interaction either, so he flashed the guy his best smile—the one he saved for the times it really counted.

"C'mon. I know we can find you something better to drink tonight than regular old beer."

The guy readjusted his grip on the handle of the case, looking evenly at Yancy. He couldn't tell if he was actually considering, or stalling. Kid seemed like a bit of a brat, though, so if Yancy had to guess...

"You've got somewhere in mind, I'm sure."

Yancy straightened, moving to pass behind the guy. "The Diamond, over on Powell. Is an hour enough time for that shower?"

The guy nodded, turning his head to look at Yancy over his other shoulder.

"I'm Yancy, by the way."

"Yancy," the guy repeated, his tone a little disbelieving; Yancy was used to that. "Chuck."

Yancy smiled again, wide and bright. "See you in a bit, Chuck," he said, taking a few steps backwards before turning and heading out of the store.

XX

Yancy had no idea what to expect out of this drink. Chuck was hot, sure, but Yancy knew nothing about him, aside from his tragic preference of beer. It wouldn't be the most impulsive thing he'd ever done, but within the last few years, it pretty well topped the list. So he'd showered, swapped his suit for a button-down and jeans, and, figuring it could only help, downed a shot of whiskey before heading out.

Chuck showed a few minutes after Yancy had grabbed two seats at the bar. He gave Yancy a once-over as he approached, so Yancy returned the favour. He looked good; dark jeans with the cuffs tucked into loosely-tied boots, and a white t-shirt with a v-neck deep enough for a small thatch of hair to peek out.

"Been here before?" Yancy asked as Chuck settled into the stool next to him.

Chuck shook his head as he scanned the room. "Nah, not my sort of joint, normally."

"Let me guess—you're a sports bar kind of person."

"Among others, yeah." Chuck shifted on his stool, resting an elbow on the bar and pivoting towards Yancy with a smile. "So what's this amazing drink you're offering?"

"Well I'm guessing wine is out of the question..." Chuck clicked his tongue, followed by a quick wink. "You into cocktails?"

Yancy handed the one-sheet cocktail list to Chuck, and he took it, brow furrowed.

"Yeah, but why they gotta bung up a decent bourbon or rum with this other foofy crap? Angostura bitters? Aperol? I only wanna drink stuff I can easily pronounce, bro."

Yancy pursed his lips. A good craft cocktail was the way to his heart, most of the time, but fine, he could work around this.

"Whisky, then? They'll have pretty much anything you can think of. Some Japanese stuff, even."

"Japanese whisky? Mate, I think someone's been playing you."

Yancy nearly brought up the article he'd read on Bloomberg a couple weeks ago, but let it slide. He could practically hear Raleigh's voice in the back of his head at that moment— _'Yance, bro, literally_ no one _cares.'_

Chuck ordered a Glenlivet, neat, and Yancy asked for an Aberlour and water. He was a little particular about his whisky, and it'd been a while since he'd been out with someone who didn't at least get it on some level.

But it wasn't beer, and so it was a start.

"You make a habit of chiding people on their booze preferences, then?" There was a glint of a challenge in Chuck's expression.

"As I recall," Yancy said, reaching for his glass and swirling the whisky around a little, "you started it."

Chuck cocked an eyebrow. "I did?" Yancy nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "When?"

"Something something wine tastes like shit?"

Chuck huffed and nodded. "Fair enough. I guess I deserve this not-exactly-cheap glass of whisky as punishment."

Yancy hummed, and tried not to get too caught on the notion of punishments. "So." He cleared his throat, tipping his glass and watching the whisky and water swirl together. "What do you do?"

Chuck swivelled his stool a little and took a slow sip of his whisky, glancing at Yancy from the corner of his eye as he did.

"Wait, let me guess you first." He tapped a finger to his chin a few times, then pointed at Yancy. "You're a lawyer."

Yancy shrugged. "Before I say yes or no... Why? What makes you say that?"

Chuck levelled his eyes at Yancy, as if the answer should've been obvious. "Well, for starters, your suits are not cheap, and you've been wearing a pocket square both times I've seen you. So you probably see clients in some capacity throughout the day, because why would you dress like that if you only ever dealt with your coworkers? You studied the ever-loving fuck out of those wine labels, and yes," Chuck paused for some whisky, "I saw all of that. Sort of adorable, really, as if you were picking out something more significant than after-work grog."

Yancy smirked and tipped his head. "Alright... but why lawyer? Why not investment banker, or something?"

Chuck shrugged. "Your hair."

"What?" Yancy ignored the urge to run a hand over his hair at the back of his head.

"I don't know, it just seems lawyer-y."

"Lawyer-y."

Chuck nodded. "You can use that, next time you're in court or whatever. Might come in handy."

Yancy chuckled, shaking his head. Okay, so the kid was _definitely_ a brat, but in a good-natured sort of way. If that was a thing.

"Alright, fine. Good call."

Chuck flashed a wide, playful smile at Yancy and turned on his stool again, and his knee connected with the side of Yancy's thigh. Yancy gave him a second to turn away again, but he didn't, so, okay. Intentional. Yancy let himself take another look at Chuck's chest in that t-shirt, as he was preoccupied with his whisky. His dick stirred in his jeans at the sight of Chuck's thick neck, leant back a little, throat working as he swallowed. Chuck glanced at him then, just before lowering his glass.

"You didn't answer me," Yancy said, and his voice was a little thick, raspy. He cleared his throat and busied himself with his whisky for a moment.

"I don't recall a question."

"I asked what you do."

"Ah." Chuck nodded, slowly. He looked at Yancy for a second, and then moistened his lips with his tongue, and Yancy really had to stop blaming people when they got distracted whenever _he_ did that to them, because, Jesus. "You don't really care what I do, do you? I mean, does it matter?"

"No, doesn't matter, but I am curious."

He was. Both times he'd seen Chuck, he'd been wearing the same yellow shorts, clearly post-exercise, and that ass... you didn't get an ass like that just from the elliptical.

Chuck stalled with another sip of his drink. "'M a student. Engineering."

Yancy raised both eyebrows. "Engineering, shit. That's intense."

Chuck shrugged. "I might not have gotten into the program, normally, but I'm on a rugby scholarship too, so..." He ran the tip of his finger around the lip of his glass."It doesn't bother you, that I'm... in school, or whatever?"

"Nah," Yancy said. "All good." And it was. Yes, there was probably something like eight years between them, but Chuck was still an adult and Yancy wasn’t exactly looking to put a ring on the guy’s finger.

Chuck hummed and turned a little more towards Yancy, his knee pressing a little harder into Yancy's thigh. Yancy wanted to put a hand on Chuck's knee, to slide it slow up his thigh, but he also wasn't quite sure whether Chuck would appreciate the PDA, so he settled for giving Chuck a half-smile and sipping his whisky.

And then, as his head was tipped slightly back mid-sip, he felt the broad warmth of Chuck's hand on his leg, squeezing lightly. Yancy lowered his glass slowly and looked down at Chuck's hand, freckles against slightly tanned skin, resting on Yancy's knee. Then he looked at Chuck. The kid had his lower lip trapped between his teeth, and when he released it, it looked even more plush than before.

"Maybe it's time we headed out of here," Chuck said, the hint of a question in his tone.

"You, uh..." Yancy cleared his throat. "You got some place in mind?"

Chuck shook his head and took his glass in his free hand, knocking back the last of his whisky. "I'm sure you can think of somewhere, hm?"

Chuck smiled out the side of his mouth and gave Yancy a dimple. Yancy studied him for a moment, waiting to see if he'd crumble or break somehow, but he didn't. Not even close; his expression was set and unfailingly confident.

"Yeah." Yancy finished his drink and signalled for the bill. "I've got an idea."

Out on the street, Yancy flagged a cab, and Chuck was on him as soon as Yancy had told the driver where to go. His hands were all over Yancy's thighs, travelling up and squeezing, clutching the back of Yancy's neck as he kissed him, hard and breathless. In short, Chuck wasted precisely zero time. Yancy, for his part, hadn't made out in the back of a cab in years, and though he was definitely into what Chuck was getting at, he felt a little weird, subjecting the poor driver to this. But Chuck was hot, and insistent, and Yancy... well his will was only so strong. It was a short ride at least, and the fifteen dollar tip hopefully made amends with the driver.

Chuck's hands didn't let up in the foyer of Yancy's building, or in the elevator, or in the hallway. By the time he got his apartment door open, Yancy was already pretty hard, so he had to at least give Chuck points for efficiency.

Chuck toed off his boots and walked forward into the apartment.

"I like your decor."

Yancy brightened. He'd taken it all very seriously, between the furniture and the accents, and he always appreciated when someone noticed.

"Did you pay someone?" Chuck asked, glancing over his shoulder at Yancy. Yancy was about to answer when Chuck continued. "To make it look like no one actually lives here, I mean."

"What?"

"I mean. It's gorgeous, right, but it's so... _clean_."

Yancy hummed and set his keys and wallet down on the hallway table. "I would almost be offended, if I couldn't guess the benchmark you're probably working with. I remember college."

Chuck smirked and walked back to Yancy, stopping in front of him and reaching for the top button of his shirt. "'M only joking. It looks very grown up and well-appointed. And sexy."

Yancy watched Chuck's fingers work the button. "I did spend a lot of time on it. It was sort of a pet project."

Chuck nodded and slipped a hand past Yancy's open collar, palm pressing over his collarbone. "Great, love it. Glad it worked out for you. Where's the bedroom, mate?"

Yancy scoffed and shook his head, swatting Chuck's hand away. "Such a fucking brat..."

Chuck smirked and followed Yancy down the hall.

Chuck took charge again as soon as they reached the bedroom, pushing Yancy back onto the bed and straddling his hips. Yancy groaned as Chuck leant to kiss him, grinding down against Yancy's cock at the same time. Yancy got a fistful of Chuck's hair, tugging him to the side a little so that he could kiss him deeper. Chuck was all-consuming, sucking on Yancy's lower lip, on his tongue, as he worked open the rest of the buttons on Yancy's shirt. He sat up then, tugging Yancy's lower lip between his teeth as he pulled back, leaving him panting where he lay, pinned under Chuck's weight. Chuck lifted his shirt over his head, a cocky smile on his face, and Yancy buried his fingers in Chuck's chest hair as quick as he could. He had a perfect amount as far as Yancy was concerned—just enough to play with and grip. Chuck hummed, a low rumble coming from his chest, and he leant into Yancy's hands, tilting his hips down.

Yancy's eyes slipped closed at the added pressure to his dick and he hissed, digging his fingertips into Chuck's pectorals.

Chuck was rocking against him now, getting Yancy fully hard. "How, uh…" Yancy cleared his throat, trying to clear his mind a little in the process. Chuck felt good, riding him like he was, but he was a little beyond dry humping and coming in his jeans, at his age. "How do you want it?"

Chuck hummed again, rolling his hips. "I'll take it, I'll give it, but right now I want you to fuck me."

Yancy groaned, his head tilting back into the pillow a bit—he loved it when guys told him exactly what they wanted; made it so much easier to take care of them.

Chuck grinned, wicked and sly, at Yancy's reaction, and Yancy smacked his thigh, signalling for him to get off. Chuck swung a leg over Yancy and got off the bed, working his pants and briefs off in one go.

Yancy paused where he stood, arms trapped in the sleeves of his shirt, taking in Chuck. He was so broad but lean at the same time, his torso making a perfect triangle that came to its apex in the vee of his abs.

"Fuck, you're..."

"Mm, you too." Chuck was looking at Yancy, his hand passing over the line of hair leading down from his navel, and Yancy watched as it continued down to wrap around the thick base of his cock. He had his damn lip trapped between his teeth again, the tease, and Yancy hurried to get the rest of his clothes off.

"Get on the bed," Yancy said, slightly stern, as he moved to get lube and a condom from the bedside table.  He was so fucking turned on by the challenge in Chuck's attitude.

And he wanted nothing more than to fuck it right out of him.

Chuck laid down on his stomach, canting his hips just a little, looking back at Yancy as he settled in behind him.

Yancy set the lube and condom aside for a moment, and straddled the backs of Chuck's thighs—he wanted Chuck facing him while they fucked but he had to get his hands on Chuck's ass first. He started with both hands on either side of Chuck's waist, and eased them down slowly, thumbs pressing in along his spine.

"Your ass..." Yancy murmured, shifting his hands to run over the swells of each cheek. His ass was as close to perfect as Yancy'd ever seen—thick and round, and soft where it counted. "Wanted to get my hands on it, on you, the second I saw you." He massaged with his hands, using the heels of his palms to work the muscle up and apart a little.

Chuck hummed below him, pushing back slightly. "I jacked off to you in the shower, after I got home that first time," he said. "Looked so fucking good in that poncy suit of yours."

Yancy couldn't help the smug smile that spread over his lips. He'd dated a few guys in the past who were really into getting fucked while he wore whatever he'd had on at work that day, so he knew he looked good in a suit.

"Came so hard too," Chuck continued, and Yancy groaned, rocking forward to rub the length of his cock against Chuck's ass. "Pictured it just like this, you taking me home and dicking me well."

"Yeah? Shit..." Yancy rolled his hips again, his dick trapped against Chuck's ass.

Chuck pushed back, moaning quietly under his breath. "Yeah. You looked so pent up, with your perfect hair. Just wanted to get my hands in it, coax you into a wreck."

"Don't need to coax me," Yancy said, reaching for the lube. He kneed Chuck's legs apart and knelt between them. He quickly opened the condom and worked it on, hissing at the touch to his oversensitive dick, and Chuck moaned a little again in answer.

Yancy squeezed Chuck’s ass, taking a moment to selfishly stroke himself while he had his other hand full. He had a feeling this was going to be a one-time only sort of thing, and he was going to take full advantage of what was in front of him.

"Fuck," Chuck breathed under him.

Yancy slicked up his hand and ran his forefinger down the cleft of Chuck's ass, from the top down to the back of his balls, pressing lightly at his perineum, which earned him a rough gasp. He didn't waste any more time, bringing his finger to Chuck's hole and working it in to the first knuckle. It slid in so easily...

Yancy groaned.

"You planned for this."

Chuck nodded, pushing back against Yancy's hand. "Hoped this was what you had in mind, so..."

Fuck, that was hot, Chuck premeditating this.

"C'mon," Chuck murmured. "More, give me more."

Yancy thrilled at the needy edge to Chuck's voice, taking the place of the cocky, self-assured tone. He worked a second finger inside Chuck, scissoring and twisting, but keeping the pads of his fingers away from his prostate. He wanted to work Chuck up as much as he could, to turn him into nothing but a gasping, moaning mess. Chuck groaned when Yancy inched closer to his prostate again, pushing back harder against Yancy's hand and spreading his legs a little further apart.

Normally Yancy wouldn't give him anything less than three fingers, but he took the two so easily, without any resistance, and he wanted to get his dick into him _now_ , so he leant in, mouth near Chuck's ear and dragged his fingers slowly over his prostate. "Ready for me now?"

Chuck moaned and nodded. "Fuck. Yeah, yes, get on with it."

Yancy bent his head and kissed Chuck's shoulder blade then leant back. "Turn over, on your back," he said, pulling his hand away and smacked Chuck's ass softly. "Want to see you."

Chuck hummed and shifted, rolling onto his back and pulling himself further up, to rest on the pillows. "Yeah," he said, breathless and raspy, hooking his legs around Yancy's hips and drawing him in closer. "Want you as deep as you can get, yeah?"

Yancy smirked, leaning over Chuck and pressing their hips together, his sheathed cock resting along the join of Chuck's thigh. "Still gonna make you work for it, y'know."

Chuck smiled, slow and wide, and tilted his hips up, grinding against Yancy's cock. "Wouldn't want it any other way." He reached up and fed his fingers into Yancy's hair, gripping a little where it was longer at the back of his head. "C'mon, fuck me already."

Yancy bit out a short laugh and shifted back, just enough to get the angle he needed. He slicked up his cock with some fresh lube and teased Chuck's hole with his tip for a second. He glanced up, and Chuck was watching Yancy's cock intently, worrying at his lower lip. Then he looked up at Yancy's face, and Yancy pressed in slowly, groaning as Chuck took him in.

"Unh..." Chuck's eyes slipped closed, fingers tightening around Yancy's wrist where it was braced on the bed beside him. "Fuck..."

Yancy moved slow, letting Chuck adjust to him and savouring how tight he was around him. And Chuck went along with it, for a minute or so, lying back and breathing evenly—until he opened his eyes and squeezed his ankles tighter around Yancy.

“Ain’t like this is my first time or anything, alright?” he said, canting his hips.

“Said I was going to make you work for it, didn’t I?” Yancy drew out, inch by inch, until he felt the head of his cock catch at the edge of Chuck’s hole. He watched Chuck for a moment, letting the question hang in the air, waiting for Chuck to take the bait, and as soon as he opened his mouth to counter, Yancy thrust forward sharp and quick, drawing a long moan out of Chuck.

“Yeah, brilliant, like that.” Chuck met Yancy’s thrusts each time, matching his quick pace. “You feel really fucking good.”

Yancy huffed, bit out a “yeah, you—” and then groaned when Chuck squeezed tighter around his cock. It’d been a while since he’d had a hard fuck, and Chuck was spurring him on, encouraging him, cursing breathlessly under him alongside the slap of skin against skin.

And then Yancy shifted, adjusted his angle, and felt his cockhead pass over Chuck’s prostate, and Chuck went rigid, back arched off the bed and hips bearing down on Yancy. The lines of Chuck’s neck were thick and pronounced under his strain, and there was something about all that tension in Chuck’s frame… if Yancy hadn’t been working his hips so fast, he’d have leant down and put his mouth on him.

“Oh, fuck—yeah, right there, c’mon...” Chuck reached for his cock as he babbled, jacking himself to the same rhythm as Yancy’s thrusts.

Yancy kept his hips at the same angle as before, aiming for Chuck’s prostate over and over, feeling his own orgasm building quickly.

“Shit,” Chuck gasped, flicking his wrist around his cock a couple more times, and his head fell back as he came with a loud groan, spilling up along his defined stomach.

Yancy moaned at the sight, his hips stuttering. “Jesus…” he said under his breath, and it turned into a scoff when Chuck grinned up him, looking satisfied. Chuck squeezed his ankles around Yancy’s hips again, then rolled his hips slightly, and it was just enough to finish Yancy off. He thrust into Chuck a few more times, long and slow, as he rode out his orgasm.

He pulled out and tossed the condom, then grabbed a couple tissues and handed them to Chuck, before laying out on the bed next to him. “Not so mouthy now, huh…”

Chuck scoffed. “Not sure you get to claim all the credit for that,” he said, his voice thick and rough.

Yancy hummed, conceding the point—he could still feel the press of Chuck’s ankles at his hips.

Chuck was languid, for all of a few minutes, tops. Then he shifted, rolling onto his side and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Yancy watched as he moved, the way his muscles worked under his freckled skin. He didn't get quite the freckle thing, why he was so into them given how many he had himself, but whatever, it was a _thing_ he had, and Chuck had plenty to admire.

Chuck was leaning forward and groping around on the floor. "You don't have to," Yancy said. "Go, I mean." He only sort-of meant it. Chuck didn't _have_ to leave, and he could go for a round two, but he hadn't planned on having a bed partner that night.

Chuck pulled on his boxers, lifting up off the bed for a moment, and turned to look at Yancy over his shoulder. He was smiling, crooked and a little wicked. "You gonna get it up again in the next half hour or so, mate?"

Yancy scoffed and bent an arm behind his head, settling back against the pillows. "I mean, I'm not like one of those guys that wants to pass out right away or anything, but..." He shook his head, smirking at Chuck. "I haven't had a window that short in years, kid."

Chuck laughed. "Fucking shame, that."

"Don't rub it in."

Chuck tugged his shirt over his head and ran his hands through his hair a couple times. He walked to the door of the bedroom and turned back, hand on the door frame. "Maybe I'll catch you next Friday?"

"Yeah, maybe. But don't think you can trick me into another drink by buying shitty beer again."

Chuck laughed and called back, "it's not shitty!" as he headed down the hall, and Yancy heard the front door open and click shut a few moments later.


	2. Chapter 2

Yancy didn't run into Chuck the next Friday. One of the partners at the firm asked him to join in on a client dinner, sort of a last minute, do-it-for-the-team thing; Yancy made it home a little after midnight, stuffed and drunk. He lamented the fact that he didn't have Chuck's number—for about five minutes. Then the realisation struck him, as he literally tumbled into bed, that he'd have been a pretty useless fuck anyway.

The following Friday, however, Chuck was already hanging around by the beer display when Yancy walked into the liquor store. The yellow shorts were noticeably absent though. Instead, he was plainclothes; jeans, plaid button-down, those same boots as before.

Yancy walked behind him to get to the wine section of the store. He'd planned to jump to France this week, but now he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be picking up a bottle at all.

"Think those jeans might be a little above your beer's station," Yancy said as he passed, keeping his voice low. He saw the way Chuck stiffened slightly, the line of his shoulders setting and his back straightening just a little.

Yancy continued to the France aisle, but Chuck wasn't far behind. Yancy saw him approach from the corner of his eye.

"Thought maybe I'd take you to some place on my turf, this time."

Yancy hadn't even had time to reach for a bottle. He looked at Chuck, standing with his hands in his pockets, facing Yancy with his hips jutting slightly forward, and Yancy realised he'd premeditated this too. He wondered whether he'd done the same thing the week before, when Yancy'd been busy.

Yancy smirked. "You did, did you? Like what, the bar on campus?"

"No, you fucker. I do have some taste, you know."

That was a fair point—his whisky selection before had actually been more than decent. Yancy shrugged. He'd probably be in good hands, figuratively speaking, if not literally as well.

"Alright." He turned to face Chuck, mimicking his stance. Chuck glanced down at his groin briefly, and Yancy grinned. "Am I okay in my suit?"

Chuck's eyes carried up Yancy's torso, and he smirked when their eyes met again. "Just fine."

 

They did wind up in the university district, and Yancy almost made a joke, but thought better of it—Chuck was obviously making some sort of effort, and it was definitely some sort of adorable.

The bar Chuck chose wasn't a sports bar, per se, but there were huge TV screens mounted in most of the corners, and there was an inordinate amount of peanut shells on the floor.

For some reason.

They all apparently originated from the huge barrels of shelled peanuts that were set out in random spots between the tables.

Yancy let Chuck pick a booth, and pulled off his suit jacket before sitting down across from him. "Peanuts, huh?"

"Yeah, it's sort of their thing, what they're known for. 'S real good when you're into a game, y'know? Just reach over and..." Chuck trailed off, shaking his head a little. "Not allergic, are you?"

Yancy chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, all good. So what am I drinking?"

Chuck smiled, a little devious. "Dealer's choice, is it?"

"As long as it's not some shit like... I don't know, Fireball or something, then yeah, go nuts."

Yancy paused, watching Chuck and hoping he'd get the joke... and then he grinned when Chuck bowed his head and laughed.

"That's it, moratorium on peanut jokes."

"Agreed, agreed."

A waitress came by a moment later. "Best thing about this place is they offer Coopers," Chuck said, turning to the waitress with a dimpled grin. "Two pints, please."

"I can see it now, you set up in here, watching a rugby game in your full gear, pint of Coopers—"

"—and a fistful of peanuts."

"Naturally."

"Y'know, not all Aussies are into rugby and beer."

"Sure, but you are."

Chuck shrugged, smiling with those dimples again. "Some stereotypes are true for a reason."

Yancy laughed and leant back in his seat. "How've you been, since...?" He tugged on the knot of his tie and pulled it off, folding it up and putting it in his pocket.

Chuck crossed his arms and leant in close, bracing his elbows on the table. His cute smile turned dirty. "Since we fucked, you mean?"

Yancy licked his lower lip because two could play that game, and nodded. "Yeah, since then."

Chuck shrugged. "School's whatever. Third year, sort of over it all now but at least I'm past the halfway mark."

"You in class every day?"

"For a few hours at least, yeah."

Their beer arrived then, and Chuck leant back with a wide smile. He took a deep sip, licking the head from his upper lip afterwards.

"Beauty," he said. "I keep asking these guys to do off-sales or to hook me up with their importer, but no such luck." He watched as Yancy sipped at his own pint. "What d'you think?"

Yancy nodded, pressing his lips together to get rid of the foam left over. "Good. Better than I'd expected."

"Let me guess, your experience with Aussie grog is strictly Fosters, right?"

Yancy shrugged. It wasn't that hard to fathom that other Australian brands were hard to come by.

Chuck shook his head. "Figures. Nah, Coopers is right, you're lucky you ran into me when you did." and then he looked up at Yancy with a hint of a dimple and wink.

The little fucker.

Yancy laughed. "I'll say."

Chuck took a moment to drink more of his beer. "So, how's _work_?" he asked, overenunciating the last word to cancel out his accent.

"Busy, but that's nothing new. Been going like gangbusters since January."

"Gangbusters."

Yancy quirked an eyebrow at Chuck. "Yeah...?"

"Just a weird expressing, s'all."

"It's a prohibition thing."

"Right. You into that stuff? Gangs and Mafiosos and such? You look like you would be."

"I guess. The Godfather—number two, of course. Goodfellas. Boardwalk Empire."

"Never seen 'em."

"What, like any of them? You've seen The Godfather at least, right?"

Chuck shook his head.

"Huh. So people like you _do_ exist. I'd heard rumours, but I thought it was something on par with like... Bigfoot. Nessie. That sort of thing."

Chuck scoffed. "Are you always this funny or has the beer gotten to you?"

"Whatever. I'm hilarious."

Chuck hummed. "If you say so."

 

 

"Alright then, what are you into?" Yancy took a drink. "And if you say Mad Max, I'm walking."

Chuck laughed loudly. He shifted and leant back into the corner of the booth, bending his leg and resting his foot on the seat. "Not exactly—though that _is_ a great movie in its own right. Named my dog after it."

"For real?"

Chuck nodded. "Yeah, but he's a bulldog, not a heeler or whatever was in the movie."

"Slightly different image..."

"I was like, thirteen or fourteen. And actually Max is proper badass."

"Sure, sure, with a namesake like that... so, what else?"

Chuck shrugged. "Don't watch much TV really, but sports, mostly. Rugby when I can catch it, basketball, boxing, MMA."

Yancy shook his head. "Basketball's okay, but..."

"Yeah, yeah, not a sports guy, I gathered. I saw all the Details and the Instinct magazines on that coffee table of yours. And you've got 'whatever's on HBO on Sunday night' written all over you."

Yancy just shrugged—the kid wasn't wrong. "I do get the most out of those subscription fees, it's true. I take it you haven't been watching True Detective?"

Chuck shook his head. "Nah, mate. Don't have the attention span for all that nattering."

Shame, Yancy thought. He would've liked to go into Carcosa theories with someone. "What about music?"

"Rock, mostly. Classic stuff—AC/DC, Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Eagles." He took a drink and looked at Yancy over the lip of his glass as he did. "Not your style, I'll wager."

"Not quite."

"Let me guess... Indie stuff? Maybe with a little eighties Brit rock on the side?"

Yancy raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Scarily accurate. How'd you know?"

Chuck shrugged. "Good at reading people. Always have been."

"Well done."

"The pocket square helped," Chuck added, with a wink.

Yancy laughed and reached for his beer. He took a deep pull, and when he looked at Chuck again, he was watching one of the screens across the room, where a football game was just starting. TVs were half the reason Yancy avoided most bars anyway, regardless of what they broadcast. He tried to think of something to ask Chuck, to get his attention back, but they genuinely didn't seem to have a lot in common, so he was a little lost for a starting point.

And then Yancy realised suddenly the noise level in the bar had pitched up, and it'd gotten a lot busier. He looked around, seeing groups of college kids laughing and talking loudly, all facing the football game.

Chuck had finished his beer and the lull between he and Chuck was starting to edge towards awkward, so Yancy decided to act. He downed his beer and cleared his throat.

"Wanna get out of here?" he said to Chuck, raising his voice over the din. "Maybe go somewhere a little less... collegiate?"

Chuck looked back at Yancy and then around the room, like he hadn't realised how busy it'd gotten either. "Yeah," he said with a slow smile. "Yeah, let's."

 

Yancy didn't recognise the address that Chuck gave the cab driver, but when they pulled up in front of an apartment building, he wasn't surprised. He hadn't necessarily meant for them to go to Chuck's place, but if that's what Chuck had in mind, Yancy was definitely game.

But the thing was...

"So why do you go to the liquor store by my place? There's gotta be ones closer to you than that one," Yancy asked, following Chuck through the front door of the building.

"Only one I've found that sells Coopers," Chuck said, deadpan, as though it were obvious. "Designed my run route around it."

"Huh." Yancy hadn't really noticed that it was Coopers he'd seen Chuck buying, because really, as far as he was concerned, beer was beer, and there'd been other things that'd caught his attention first. But there was something about that that appealed to Yancy, on some level.

"I don't have a roommate or anything," Chuck said as he unlocked the door to his apartment. "In case you were wondering."

"Yeah, no, that's good..." Yancy said, following Chuck inside.

Yancy looked around the apartment as he toed off his shoes and slipped out of his suit jacket. It was small, but it seemed to at least have a separate bedroom, which was more than he could say of the apartment he'd had when he was an undergrad. it was messier than his had been though—video game cases and a controller covered the coffee table, joined by a few to-go coffee cups and stacked plates, and different articles of clothing were strewn all over.

He looked over his shoulder at Chuck and smirked. "I think I said somewhere _less_ collegiate."

Chuck shook his head, looking down at the floor briefly before fixing Yancy with a look and surging forward. "Shut up," he muttered, before catching Yancy's mouth and pressing him into the wall.

Yancy gave a little noise of surprise, but kissed Chuck back without missing a beat. He took Chuck by the hip, while Chuck cupped both sides of his face, working Yancy's mouth open with his tongue. Yancy groaned, leaning forward eagerly into the kiss. He'd needed this.

Chuck moved his hands into Yancy's hair, carding through it at the sides, and bringing one around to grip at the back. "Been wanting to get my hands into your hair since the liquor store," he said, breathless and rough when he pulled away from Yancy. "Get it all mussed up again. Always s'damn perfect all the time, except for the other week."

Yancy hummed and dug his fingers into Chuck's hips at the same time as Chuck tugged a little at his hair. Normally he was a little retentive about his hair, but when the situation called for it...

He leant in to kiss Chuck's neck. "That all you've been wanting to do since the liquor store?"

Chuck groaned and flicked his hips forward, half-hard cock hitting Yancy's thigh. "Not even close," he murmured as he stepped back and quickly took off his shirt.

Yancy followed suit, taking off his dress shirt. Chuck had let his fall where it did before heading towards the bedroom, but Yancy kept hold of his—if he was going to have to leave when this was over, which was a distinct possibility, he didn't want to have to follow a trail of his own clothes to the front door. Plus, the thing cost a hundred and fifty dollars; it didn't belong on the floor, regardless of the circumstance.

By the time Yancy got to the bedroom, Chuck was down to his boxer briefs. He stood by the foot of the bed—which was unmade, unsurprisingly—watching Yancy closely and massaging his hand over his clothed dick.

"C'mon, kit off." Chuck stroked up his cock, wrapping his fingers around the outline, and Yancy's throat went dry. "Wanna get my mouth on you."

"Jesus..." Yancy murmured, swallowing thickly. He tossed his shirt onto the back of Chuck's desk chair at his left, and undid his belt.

As if Yancy needed the incentive, Chuck hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and slowly tugged down, over his ass first, and then past his cock.

"So damn cocky," Yancy said, before bending down to pull off his pants and boxers. They ended up on the chair along with his shirt.

"You love it, don't play like you don't."

Yancy shrugged, because Chuck had a point.

He moved in front of Chuck and reached for his hips, pulling him close and sliding his hands around to rest at the top of his ass. Chuck smirked and pressed forward, the ridge of his dick sliding up alongside Yancy's, and they both groaned. Yancy's hands dropped to cup Chuck's ass, and he dug his fingers into the supple muscle, pulling up as he leant down and kissed at Chuck's neck.

"Mm." Chuck rolled his hips into Yancy. "As much as I love the idea of you manhandling my ass—"

Yancy cut him off with a soft chuckle. "You've got other things in mind."

Chuck kissed Yancy light and quick and then pushed him towards the bed. "I've already told you I switch... is that...?"

"Fuck," Yancy exhaled, the backs of his knees hitting the edge of the bed. "Yeah, that's... yeah." He was vers too, but given the choice he did usually prefer bottoming. "How do you want me?"

Chuck licked his lips and nodded at the bed with his chin. "I'm gonna suck you off first, so on your back."

Yancy shivered a little, sitting down and pulling himself back onto the pillows and bracing on his elbows. Chuck crawled up along after him, yanking away the mussed bed sheets as he went.

He crawled up over Yancy, leaning to reach for his bedside table. Yancy glanced over, and laughed a little. There was nothing discreet about it—a large bottle of lube and a basket of condoms were there under the table lamp.

"Ain't got time to waste or people to impress," Chuck said, grabbing a condom and the bottle.

"All good. Take it your parents don't spring surprise visits on you?"

"Nah." Chuck settled between Yancy's legs. "Dad's in Australia, so plenty of notice, if he ever felt like getting off his duff for a visit anyway."

Yancy nodded and then Chuck wrapped a hand around his dick, stroking slowly. The dry drag of his palm was a shock at first, and Yancy gasped, his head falling back. Chuck was gentler than Yancy'd anticipated, half-expecting him to start stripping his cock from the go.

"You want this?" Chuck asked, holding the condom up between his fore and middle fingers. "Or can I...? I'm clear, as of the beginning of the month." He leant down and pressed his lips to the inside of Yancy's thigh. "I'll still, y'know, later..." he said, lips moving against Yancy's skin."But this is always better..."

Yancy exhaled through his nose before lifting his head again to look at Chuck. "Yeah," he said weakly, and then he groaned as Chuck wrapped his tongue around the base of Yancy's cock.

He licked up, clasping his fingers around the base in a tight circle, and when his mouth reached the tip, he slid his tongue around it, running the edge of it through the slit there. Yancy moaned at the attention to the head of his cock, when Chuck took just the tip into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it over and over in quick circles.

"You were so quiet last time," Chuck said, pulling back just enough to speak. Yancy could feel his breath, cool against the wet head of his dick. "Been wondering what it'd take to really undo you."

Yancy was usually on the quiet side. Definitely not talkative or anything—not like Chuck had been. It just wasn't his style, but whatever, that wasn't the point.

"Sounds like a challenge, to me."

Chuck smirked. He drew his hand up Yancy's cock and circled his thumb around the head, and Yancy inhaled sharply at the new texture.

"Certainly can be. Between my mouth and my cock..." Chuck paused to pump Yancy a few times. "Bet I can really make you sing."

Yancy shifted on his elbows. "Get on with it, then." he didn't mind a bit of banter, especially not with someone as good at as Chuck, but he also really wanted to get off.

"Yes sir..."

Chuck bowed his head again and sucked Yancy into his mouth, dragging his hand down the length ahead of his lips and clasping at the base. He bobbed a few times, working the flat of his tongue against the underside of Yancy's cock, and then pulled off with a hollow pop. Yancy groaned at the sharp, sudden suction.

"Show me how you like it," Chuck said, voice raspy and low, massaging the inside of Yancy's thigh with his free hand.

Yancy didn't get Chuck's meaning until after a long moment, when Chuck glanced pointedly at his hand, before wrapping his mouth around Yancy's dick again. Yancy threaded his fingers into Chuck's hair and moved to the back of his head, and Chuck hummed his encouragement. Yancy gripped into Chuck's hair when the vibrations passed over his oversensitive skin, and Chuck sank lower down Yancy's cock as if on cue.

Yancy guided Chuck into a slow, steady pace, savouring the wet heat of his mouth. Chuck looked up when Yancy let out a moan, making eye contact and holding it, as if drinking in all of Yancy's reaction.

"Fuck." Yancy exhaled, edged with a growl, tightening his hand in Chuck's hair when Chuck hollowed his cheeks and sucked a little harder. "Jesus, Chuck, your mouth…"

Chuck hummed again, his voice kicking up at the end into something like a whine, and he worked Yancy faster, twisting his grip tightly around where his mouth didn't reach.

Yancy closed his eyes and let his head loll back, focusing on the sloppy wet sounds of Chuck sucking him off. Then he heard a soft click and the hand Chuck had around his shaft disappeared—replaced a moment later by a warm, slick finger trailing from behind his balls into the cleft of his ass. Yancy moaned and bucked his hips, shifting down, needing more of Chuck's fingers.

"Yeah, shit, yeah…" he babbled, his hips rocking up again, and this time, Chuck pulled back a little.

"Ain't really gonna be able to fuck you if you choke me first, mate."

Yancy laughed and nodded. "Yeah, sorry, just… you're not playing fair," he said, twirling his fingers into Chuck's hair a little.

Chuck smirked and looked down, watching as he slipped a finger into Yancy and pulled a groan out of him. Then he looked back up. "Told you I was going to get you loud, didn't I?" He said out the corner of his mouth, thoroughly smug.

Yancy couldn't even protest or lob some sort of banter back; all he could focus on was the feeling of Chuck working him open while he kept stroking his cock with his free hand.

And then Chuck bent forward and took Yancy into his mouth again. "Fuck!" Yancy shouted, barely resisting the urge to cant his hips again. "Fuck, you're too—"

Chuck worked a second finger inside and then gently stroked across Yancy's prostate.

"Yeah, yeah, just like that…" Yancy rarely got like this, but Chuck knew exactly what to do to get him to this point, and like hell did Yancy have anything to complain about.

Chuck sat up again a moment later and quickly worked the condom onto his dick. He shifted forward on his knees and lifted one of Yancy's legs over his shoulder. He was so damn broad, framed between Yancy's legs as he was, all thick chest and arms.

He pressed into Yancy slow, but steady, and Yancy let out a long, low moan. He knew Chuck was thick, but he felt like so much more than he'd expected.

"'S alright?" Chuck asked once he'd hilted himself, and Yancy nodded quickly.

"Yeah, fuck…" Yancy felt barely coherent, for how full he felt.

Chuck laughed and set his pace, languid and deep. He slid one hand up Yancy's leg and rested it at his hip, using his grip for leverage.

"Feels so fucking good," Chuck growled, snapping his hips into Yancy sharply. "Taking my dick so easily."

Yancy groaned and reached for his cock, so hard after the attention from Chuck's mouth that it ached—only to have his hand swatted away and replaced by Chuck's.

"Wanna feel you come," he murmured.

"Jesus…" Yancy gasped, his hips bucking up into Chuck's downthrust, driving Chuck deeper, filling him even more, and then he came with a shout after a few tight strokes.

Chuck moaned and issued a drawn out "yeah…" and fucking Yancy through his orgasm. "Christ, Yancy," he groaned, working his hips harder, faster, and he was panting. He slammed into Yancy as he came, head tossed back and neck straining, and like last time, all Yancy wanted to do was get his mouth on him.

So when Chuck buckled forward, leaning low over Yancy, he leant up and did just that, pressing a wet, open kiss to Chuck's neck.

Chuck hummed and angled his head to nudge Yancy's chin up and catch his mouth in a kiss. It was slow and sated, both of them coming down.

But Chuck was up and off the bed after a minute. He left the room, and Yancy enjoyed the sight of his ass as he went—he wasn't ever going to get enough of it. He pulled himself up as Chuck returned, wearing a pair of blue track shorts. He was standing just inside the room, scratching the back of his head, and Yancy took his reluctance to get back on the bed for the sign he assumed it was and got up.

"You're…" Chuck started, as Yancy began to get dressed. "You're okay with this arrangement, right?"

"You mean the casual thing?" Yancy asked after he'd stepped into his pants. Chuck nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Okay, cool," Chuck said with a quick smile. "I mean, just with uni and rugby and everything, I don't really…"

Yancy shook his head, returning Chuck's smile. "Same for me, trust me—with the way work is, this sort of thing is about all I have time for." Time, and energy, but fuck if he was going to admit that part to the twenty-one-year-old in front of him.

Chuck came to stand in front of Yancy and took over the task of doing up the buttons on his shirt. "Well, any time you feel like doing _this sort of thing_ …" he said, leaning in to kiss the edge of Yancy's jaw. "Gimme your phone."

Yancy fished his phone from his pocket and unlocked it, handing it over.

"Blackberry? Really?" Chuck said, wrinkling his nose as he tapped the contacts icon.

Yancy shrugged. "It's a good phone, actually."

"Okay, sure." Chuck scoffed, then handed the phone back to Yancy. "I don't really take phone calls, okay? Either in class or at practice or studying, so texts only."

Yancy laughed, shaking his head as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. He almost followed it up with a 'kids these days' sort of comment, before figuring that'd probably reflect worse on him than on Chuck. "Noted," he simply said, before moving around Chuck to leave the bedroom.

Chuck followed him to the front door at least. He watched as Yancy put on his shoes and his suit jacket, then stepped forward.

He kissed Yancy, sliding a hand across the back of his neck. "Next time I see you at the liquor store," he said after pulling away, "I better see you with a case of Coopers in your hand."

Yancy scoffed and pushed at Chuck's shoulder. "One pint doesn't a convert make." He turned and opened the door, and Chuck took the door from him, leaning against it.

"Sounds like a challenge to me."

"Uh-uh." Yancy shook his head. "I'm not taking that bet again—not without an incentive, anyway."

Chuck laughed. "I'm sure I can think of something," he said with a wink, before closing the door behind Yancy.


	3. Chapter 3

Yancy sighed.

He'd been trying to make his way through the fairness opinion in his hands all morning. The merger was due to be announced at the beginning of the week, and if he didn't have his comments ready for his client by the end of the day, he'd be hearing about it—regardless of the fact it was a Sunday. But he couldn't focus for shit. He'd made it easily enough through the first half of the twenty five-page document, but over the last half hour, he'd read the same sentence at least ten times.

He turned the page and pressed the crease over the staple in the upper left corner and leant back into the couch cushions, tossing the document onto the coffee table, on top of the magazines spread out there. Details and Instinct, which made him think of Chuck's and how he'd noticed them that first night. He ran a hand over his face and glanced at his phone. It blinked red at him from the far end of the couch, and he reached for it.

There was, unsurprisingly, a priority email from the CEO wanting an updating on Yancy's progress.

 _Still under review; will have comments later this afternoon_ , he sent back. Yancy got that the guy was stressed and concerned that he was going to get the short end of the stick in the process of being bought out, but he had to chill or he was going to give himself a coronary before the deal even went live. He could sit tight for a little while longer; might do him some good.

There were a few other work emails in his inbox, but nothing that he needed to answer before going into the office the next day. And before he really realised it, he'd flicked over to his text message inbox. His last message from Raleigh was on top, but Chuck's last message was second down the list. Only, it was dated five days ago.

Had it really been that long? And why did that suddenly feel like a really long time? He tried to remember what they'd done but couldn't come up with much more than a couple bottles of sake, some really good sushi, and fucking on Chuck's couch.

Yancy frowned at his phone and tapped his finger on the corner of its case, contemplating.

He really ought to get back to work, but...

Maybe he'd be able to concentrate better if...

He opened Chuck's last message and wrote, _In need of a good distraction for an hour or two... free?_

He hit send and put the phone down, leaning forward and trying to get back into the fairness opinion.

 _'Forecasted_ _market valuation vis-a-vis cost of production for Q2-Q3 2014 is on par with..._ ' Yancy sighed and glanced at his phone. The message light was blinking again, and maybe it was the CEO bitching at him some more. But maybe...

He reached for it.

_as long as said distraction involves you fucking me proper then yeah i'm free_

Yancy flicked his tongue over his lips and smirked. _Done. Get here ASAP._

He turned off his screen and tossed his phone on top of the fairness opinion, and went to take a quick shower.

Chuck arrived just as Yancy stepped out of the shower. Yancy answered the door with his wet hair slicked back and a towel slung around his hips.

"Bloody hell," Chuck said from the doorway, voice dropped low, as he raked his eyes over Yancy. He took a long stride forward and pressed against Yancy, kissing him eagerly. He slipped both hands into Yancy's hair, tugging just slightly. "If I'd known you were gonna shower, I'd have gotten here sooner and joined you."

Yancy chuckled. "Maybe next time."

Chuck hummed in agreement, then unravelled the towel from Yancy's hips. He made to toss it away, but Yancy caught it before he let go—and then dropped it anyway when Chuck closed a hand around his cock. He was already half-hard from the anticipation of Chuck coming by, and it didn't take long for Chuck to get him the rest of the way.

"Had an exciting day so far?" Chuck asked, lips pressed to Yancy's neck.

"Yeah, fucking riveting." He let out a grunt and rolled his hips forward, asking for more of Chuck's hand.

Chuck answered by crowding Yancy back against the wall near the door with his wider frame and pumping his cock quicker, tighter. Yancy groaned and cursed, hips bucking.

"Hope I'm not a letdown then."

Yancy shook his head and angled Chuck's chin up so he could kiss him. "You're exactly what I need right now."

Chuck huffed out a breathy laugh, then pulled away, letting go of Yancy. "Always nice to be wanted…" he said in a sing-song tone, as his voice trailed off down the hallway behind him.

XX

On the occasional weeknights that he didn't have work to catch up on, Yancy preferred to just go home and do as much nothing as possible. His friends had learned to not even bother calling him up to see if he was free. Raleigh still did, now and then, because he was Raleigh, but he was generally the only person Yancy would make a weeknight exception for.

If it was a good day, he'd change into sweats, maybe work out if he had the energy, make something for dinner, and catch up on whatever TV he'd missed in the last week. If it was a bad day, he'd work through leftovers or order delivery of some sort, strip to his underwear, and go to bed as early as his brain would allow.

This had been a good day, though, so he was halfway through an episode of Homeland when he got a text from Chuck.

 _where you?_ It said.

 _Home_ , Yancy replied.

_just dominated in our game, 23-11. super pumped rn_

This was new, Chuck texting for anything other than a hook up, and as innocuous as it was, Yancy wasn't exactly sure what he was meant to say. _Awesome_ , he answered, feeling lame.

_wanna get your dick sucked?_

Yancy laughed, because that was more like what he was used to. And it came through so quickly, Chuck obviously hadn't been waiting for Yancy's last response.

_Is that a rhetorical question, or...?_

_already on my way. pants off, be there in 5_

Yancy obliged, stripping off his sweats down to his boxers, and when he answered the door a short while later, Chuck had already tugged off his shirt; it was clutched in his fist down at his side.

"Hey," he said, moving through the door and kissing Yancy. Yancy leant into it, but Chuck pulled away before it really went anywhere. "Mind if I shower? 'M a bit rank."

"You came straight from your game?"

"I got an impulse," Chuck said with a shrug. "So can I? You _did_ say 'maybe next time' last time."

Yancy huffed and gestured with his arm towards the bathroom. Chuck grinned and flashed his dimples, before going down the hallway.

Yancy leant back against the side of his couch and crossed his arms over his chest. "So you guys kicked ass, huh?"

"Yep," Chuck answered brightly just before the water switched on. He'd left the bathroom door open a few inches.

The sound of the falling water shifted, followed by a loud, drawn out groan. Yancy's dick stirred.

"Mate, this shower…" Chuck said a moment later. "You gotta try it."

It took Yancy a second to process what Chuck had just said, then he scoffed. "Pretty sure I already have, kid."

"Not like this you haven't—you're missing out."

Yancy grinned to himself and pushed away from the couch, heading for the bathroom. He should've guessed this wasn't going to be just a quick post-game clean-up.

The shower hadn't been running long enough to steam up much, so Yancy could see all of Chuck's broad, toned form through the glass of the stall. He was leaning back against the granite tiles and slowly stroking his cock, watching Yancy tug off his boxers.

"I'm not kidding though, this shower is bloody amazing," Chuck said, as Yancy joined him in the stall. "What do they call these things anyway?" He continued, glancing up at the shower head that was situated over the centre of the shower. "A rainforest shower head?"

Yancy's eyes darted between Chuck's dick, Chuck's face, and the shower head. He knew which one of the three he was most interested in. "I have no idea," he said, moving closer to Chuck.

Chuck put a hand in the middle of Yancy's chest to keep a distance between them. "Mm, yes, you do. I know how you feel about your interior decorating."

Which was a fair point, but a moot one. Yancy tugged Chuck's hand away and leant up into him, kissing him.

Chuck let go of himself and reached around to grab Yancy's ass and pulled him in closer.

Then Yancy was the one being pressed against the tiles of the shower, and he hissed at the unexpected coolness against his skin. Chuck kissed him again, and then sank to his knees.

His mouth was on Yancy's cock in the next moment, all hot and eager. Yancy thread his fingers into Chuck's wet hair, exhaling a deep groan.

"Jesus, kid… you always get like this when you win a game?"

Chuck hummed, laving his tongue around Yancy's cockhead inside his mouth. "I like winning," he rasped, matter of fact. "And I like your dick."

Yancy chuckled. "Fair enough."

Chuck took Yancy in his mouth again and it wasn't long until he had Yancy with his hips rocking forward and his head tiled back against the granite. He wasn't wasting any time, sucking and taking Yancy hungrily. And then Chuck wrapped a hand around himself and stroked, and he moaned deep, Yancy's cock still on his tongue.

"Oh, fuck…" Yancy's grip tightened in Chuck's hair, and he gently guided Chuck's head at exactly the right rhythm. Chuck kept humming and moaning around Yancy as he worked them both at the same time, and Yancy hoped Chuck was damn close, because he wasn't going to last.

"Chuck, shit, I'm…"

Chuck nodded quickly and hollowed his cheeks, sucking Yancy deeper, and between that and the sound of Chuck stripping his own dick, Yancy came hard with a groan. Chuck worked him through it for a few moments, and then pulled off and let his head fall back, panting as he spilled on Yancy's lower leg.

XX

Yancy felt good.

Sure he'd first sat through another client dinner, but it'd been a pretty good one, as those generally went. It was with the same CEO from before, who turned out to be a fairly decent guy when he didn't have the stress of a merger bearing down on his shoulders. Generous too, going by the multiple bottles of wine the table had split. But still, Yancy felt good, happy, relaxed. And horny.

He'd thought of Chuck a few times throughout dinner. For some reason that'd been happening more and more, lately. But he was cute and hot, and Yancy liked to think of cute and hot things, so thinking about Chuck made sense.

Even if it gave him a semi at a dinner table surrounded by his bosses and clients.

Yancy was the last to leave the restaurant, turning down offers of chauffeured rides home, in favour of a cab, because he had a plan.

"Well," Chuck drawled, when he answered the phone. "Not who I expected a call from tonight."

Yancy smiled to himself and leant back against the brick wall behind him. He was standing outside, a few doors down from the restaurant.

"Figured it might be one of your other regular booty calls?"

"No, I just..." Chuck cleared his throat. "How was your dinner?"

Yancy waved a hand. "Whatever, same thing, different restaurant."

"You sound like you've been drinking."

"A little."

"Probably too much for me to hope it was Coopers you were drinking?  Need to keep tabs of all the places that carry it, I mean."

Yancy laughed. "Think I might've been fired on the spot if I'd ordered a beer in front of the client."

Chuck hummed. "No accounting for taste, I guess."

Yancy cleared his throat and pitched his voice down a note—time to get to business. "What are you doing right now?"

"Definitely not just sitting around in my boxers and playing video games."

Yancy smirked and pushed off of the wall. "Want an excuse to take that underwear off?"

Chuck laughed. "Mate, I don't need any excuse to hang around starkers in my own flat. But if you're asking whether you should come over, then yeah, I think you should."

"Alright then." Yancy reached out and flagged down a passing cab. "See you in a bit."

 

Chuck's front door was unlocked when Yancy got there, and Chuck was sitting on his couch, knees bent and feet propped on the edge of his coffee table. The underwear he'd allegedly been wearing was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn, you look good like that," Yancy said as he toed his shoes off. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it on the handle of Chuck's hall closet.

Chuck smirked from where he sat. "Yeah? Thought I'd save you the trouble of making any more cheesy jokes about getting my boxers off."

"Brat," Yancy muttered, shuffling forward into the apartment. "Come over here."

"Bossing me around in my own home..." Chuck shook his head, and then smiled from the corner of his mouth when Yancy frowned a little.

He rose from the couch and sauntered over to Yancy, and Yancy raked his eyes over Chuck's naked body. He reached for Chuck a soon as he was close and pulled him in, slipping his hands around Chuck's hips to rest at the top of his ass. Chuck slid his arms around Yancy's shoulders and they kissed, eager and urgent from the go. Chuck worked his way into Yancy's mouth and twined their tongues together, and Yancy tilted his head, letting Chuck get as deep as he could. He slid a hand down to cup Chuck's ass and squeezed, bringing their hips closer together until they were totally flush. He let the tip of a finger slip into the cleft of Chuck's ass, and Chuck moaned into Yancy's mouth.

"'M glad you came over," Chuck murmured, rocking his half-hard dick against Yancy's thigh.

"Mm, same." Yancy kissed down Chuck's jaw and neck, scraping his teeth over the top of Chuck's shoulder. "Was kinda hard through most of dinner, thinking about this. Had to see you."

Chuck groaned and slid a hand to the back of Yancy's head. "Serious? You were sitting there with a semi in front of all your bosses and whatever, because of me?" Yancy nodded and Chuck tightened his hand in Yancy's hair, tugging and pulling his head up. "That's so fucking hot, Yance."

Chuck kissed him again, hungry and messy, and through the haze in his head, Yancy caught the nickname. He liked hearing it from Chuck, something so familiar.


	4. Chapter 4

"Wait," Raleigh said, pausing as he cut a bite from his sausage. "You were thinking about him, like well before you called him?"

Yancy nodded, not looking up from his french toast. The pattern the powdered sugar had made was very interesting...

"Do you ever, like, think about him randomly? Through the day and stuff?"

Yancy bit the corner of his mouth and looked at Raleigh. He knew exactly what he was getting at. "Sometimes, yeah."

Raleigh laughed and shook his head, before popping a piece of sausage in his mouth. "You're so fucked," he said, chewing.

"Thanks, Rals. Real helpful."

"Not sure what help there is for you, that's all. You sound like you're pretty into him."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't be."

Raleigh nodded as if conceding the point. He stirred his bloody mary with the asparagus it'd come with before taking a drink. "Why, cause it makes you a dirty old man?"

"Fuck off," Yancy muttered. He cut a bite of his french toast, pushing it around his plate a little before bringing it to his mouth.

"What is the age difference, anyway?"

"He's a junior," Yancy said, and added, "in college," when Raleigh cocked an eyebrow at him, complete with shithead smirk. "It's not that bad. Eight years or something."

"I thought you said you didn't have anything in common?"

Yancy shrugged. "We don't really. I mean, besides..."

Because they were _very_ compatible in some ways, that was undeniable. He decided not to tell Raleigh that Chuck was some of the best sex of his life... he'd probably figure that out on his own anyway.

"Okay, so..." Raleigh stacked his fork with some eggs and sausage, brandishing it around a bit as he spoke before eating it. "It's purely physical, then."

Yancy sipped his mimosa and considered this. Sure it'd been physical at the start, and for a while, but... there was more to it now, even if Yancy couldn't pinpoint exactly what that was.

"Look," Raleigh said, interrupting Yancy's train of thought. "Going by what you've told me, you two are pretty much oil and water. You like stupidly-complicated cocktails, and the first thing you do each month is download the new BIRP playlist. He drinks shitty beer and the first thing he does each month is probably forget to pay his rent."

"He, um..." Yancy pursed his lips, stopping himself. But it was too late, Raleigh was staring at him expectantly—head tilted forward, eyebrows quirked.

"'He, um' what, Yancy?"

Yancy sighed. He couldn't think of a good deflection. "His dad covers his rent. From Australia."

Raleigh leant back in his chair and scoffed, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ, Yance. Couldn't have at least found a self-sufficient twenty-one-year-old?"

"Well, he _is_ in school for engineering. Doesn't exactly leave him a lot of time for work..."

Raleigh laughed. "Hadn't figured you for the sugar daddy type."

Yancy scowled at Raleigh. He was being a dick on purpose, and okay, Yancy probably could do with a little harsh realism, but that did nothing to solve his problem. Not that Raleigh had much experience in the matter—only thing he'd ever shown any sort of commitment to was some of the sweaters he'd insisted on keeping since they'd left Alaska—ten years ago.

"Why not just keep things as they are for now, see if he makes any sort of move?"

Yancy waved Raleigh off. "Just forget it," he said, and finished his mimosa. "Hey, are you free next Thursday? This one band's playing at the Union."

Raleigh shook his head as he drank the last of his bloody mary. "Can't," he said, biting the tip off his asparagus. "Take Chuck."

Yancy rolled his eyes."Honestly, let's just drop it."

"I'm serious."

"We don't do shit like that, concerts and movies or whatever—the whole nothing in common thing, right? Chuck wouldn't be interested."

Raleigh shrugged. "Okay, but you don't know he'd say no," he said, taking another bite of asparagus and pointing the half-eaten spear at Yancy. "If he did say yes, wouldn't you want to go with him?"

"Well, yeah... but he wouldn't. I already know he doesn't like them."

"Just tell him you're already planning on going and see if he wants to come. If he says yes, then you're all good. If he says no, then you know where things stand."

Yancy frowned. "That seems... weird. Like I'm baiting him."

"Well, Yance, you could always just _ask_ him if he wants to date you, like grown-ups. If kids in high school can manage it, so can you."

Fuck his life, Yancy thought, if Raleigh had somehow turned into the voice of reason within it.

 

Yancy called Chuck on the walk back to his apartment. Maybe he shouldn't have, given the dressing down Raleigh had just given him; maybe he should've just sat back and let Chuck call the shots. But Yancy couldn't deny that he _wanted_ to see Chuck. It wasn't out of him being horny or anything either, like it'd been in the beginning. Sure, he got a little hard when Chuck said he'd come by, but the motivation had to count for something, right?

He tried to put it all out of his head when Chuck got to his place, and with the way Chuck kissed him—eager, like they hadn't just seen each other two days ago—Yancy didn't have much trouble. He took Chuck in the bedroom, on his back, seeing how into it all Chuck was, and kissing him when he got too mouthy. Chuck came without a hand on himself, and the smile on his face when Yancy came shortly after was satisfied and broad enough to set his dimples off.

Chuck was up and reaching for his clothes soon enough, and Yancy lifted up on one elbow to watch him.

Yancy didn't think Chuck would try to end whatever this was, if he didn't want to go to the show. And Yancy could keep the casual thing up, probably, if that's what Chuck still wanted. For a little while longer, at least... and then he could cross that bridge whenever they came to it. Or whatever.

But Raleigh's annoyingly-right voice was there in the back of Yancy's head, and this really was the right time to ask, instead of later over the phone.

"Hey, are you..." Yancy started, and then cleared his throat when the words caught a snag. Chuck turned to look at him as he buttoned his jeans. "Thursday. Are you free?"

Chuck considered Yancy for a moment with a confused expression on his face. "Is that another Star Wars thing? Yoda or whatever?"

Yancy paused, wondering what Chuck meant. And oh, right. _'A date with me, would you go on.'_ He chuckled and shook his head. "No, not a Star Wars thing, not on purpose anyway... I, uh, was just asking... I'm going to see this band on Thursday night, and if you wanted to maybe come with me..."

Chuck pursed his lips. "Do I know them?"

"Yeah, you'd have heard them here before. I think you called them 'sad surf rock'...?"

Chuck pulled on his t-shirt and rearranged his hair. "Yeah I'm down," he said after a beat, and then added with a smirk, "if you pay for me, like a proper date."

Yancy laughed, relieved. "Such a brat."


	5. Chapter 5

He wasn't quite sure what, but Yancy was anticipating something, some way for this whole thing to go wrong. He already knew Chuck didn't really like the band; he'd agreed to come anyway but maybe once they started playing he'd realise just how much he hated it and he'd bail. Or the crowd would get to him somehow, like talking in his ear or knocking into him repeatedly. It seemed ridiculous and petty when Yancy really thought about scenarios like those but everything was just going too smoothly. Chuck was off getting drinks, so that assured Yancy of a further twenty or thirty minutes, but then maybe it didn't.

He was annoyed at himself for getting so stupid over it all—he was an adult, and Chuck was too, and if they both didn't want to be there, they wouldn't be. But still, when Chuck came back from the bar, Yancy braced himself for some sort of snide remark about something, anything, that would give away just how little Chuck really wanted to be there.

Except none came.

He handed Yancy his rye and ginger—with lime, not lemon, so he remembered that much at least—with a wide smile.

"They charged out the ass for these," he started, before sipping at his vodka and Redbull. "But at least they free-poured. Won't take more'n one or two of these."

"You should've let me get them. Thought the idea was for me to treat you anyway."

Chuck clicked his tongue and waved Yancy off. "Nah, was only kidding about that. 'M a big boy, can buy a guy a couple drinks now and again."

Yancy nodded and frowned into his drink. Was he kidding about the paying part, or the 'like a real date' part?

He took a long pull of his drink—he needed to dull his brain and quick, or he was going to fuck this all up on his own, no outside influence needed.

The band came out a short while later, and they started off strong. A few quick tempo, upbeat, catchy songs that were definitely not the 'sad surf rock' Chuck had heard before. Yancy glanced over at Chuck midway through the third song, and saw he was bopping his head to the beat. He was just slightly off enough to make it clear he wasn't familiar with the song, but that he was enjoying it all the same. Chuck must've sensed him looking, because he glanced at Yancy from the corner of his eye, and when Yancy smiled broadly, Chuck returned it, dimples and all.

Then the band moved into some slower songs from their new album, which Chuck had heard. The energy of the crowd mellowed, and Yancy saw Chuck stop moving to the music. Partway through one song, he reached for Yancy's empty cup and wandered off. Yancy looked after him, but lost sight quickly in the dark, crowded venue. He returned a few minutes later, drinks in hand. He passed one to Yancy, and Yancy smiled at him, mouthing a thank you, which garnered him a wink in response.

In the next song, another quiet pretty one, Yancy felt Chuck's hand graze his where it hung by his side. He looked down as Chuck wove his fingers with Yancy's. It wasn't a total hand-hold, only three-fifths of the way there, but it was still something, and when Chuck shifted closer, the warmth of his arm pressing through Yancy's sleeve, that was something even better.

Chuck didn't waste time in the cab, on the way back to Yancy's. It started with his hand on Yancy's thigh, grip tight and skin warm through his jeans. Then he leant over and put his lips to Yancy's neck, kissing and sucking so hard Yancy knew it would leave a mark; he groaned under his breath at the realisation and Chuck laughed, quiet and soft against the damp spot he'd made on Yancy's skin. His hand made its way up Yancy's thigh, until he cupped it over the bulge of his dick. Yancy inhaled sharply and his body went rigid for a moment, but when Chuck began palming him, he let his eyes close and he shifted forward, spreading his legs to give Chuck a better angle.

"So easy," Chuck whispered by Yancy's ear, barely more than breath, and it carried into a shiver down Yancy's spine. Chuck's hand was slow but insistent, and Yancy wondered whether he was trying to get him off before the cab ride was over. It'd been a while since he'd come so easily, but if there was anyone who'd do it for him, it was going to be Chuck.

But he let up when they turned the corner onto Yancy's street, and Yancy exhaled hard through his nose, trying to focus on anything else. He shot Chuck a look that was meant to be a bit chiding, but Chuck was just smiling back, smug as ever. Yancy laughed softly and shook his head, reaching for his wallet to pay the cab driver.

Inside the apartment, Yancy half-expected Chuck to tease him some more, to suggest they watch a movie or something before going to bed, but instead he beelined it for the bedroom as soon as he'd kicked his boots off.

They stripped quickly and laid out on Yancy's bed, facing each other. Yancy slid a hand around the back of Chuck's neck and kissed him, curling his fingers into Chuck's hair. Chuck wrapped his hand around Yancy's cock and began stroking him slowly, rounding his palm around the tip on each upstroke.

Yancy groaned. "Shit, Chuck," he whispered, pressing his lips to the side of Chuck's mouth.

Chuck turned his head and kissed Yancy's cheek, then his jaw. "Wanna fuck you..." he said, voice thick and rough around the edges, punctuating himself with a soft nip at the corner of Yancy's jaw.

"Yeah," Yancy sighed, rocking his hips into Chuck's hand. "Yeah, want that too..."

Chuck grinned against Yancy's skin, then rose up and leant over him to pull the lube and condoms from Yancy's bedside table.

"There, uh, hasn't been anyone else," Chuck said, still draped over Yancy.

Yancy looked at Chuck's profile. "Oh," he said quietly, a little confused at what Chuck meant.

"Since before my last test, I mean."

 _Oh_.

"Yeah, right, same for me. So are you saying we...?"

Chuck shifted back, kneeling by Yancy's legs. He just had the slick in his hands. "Yeah...? I mean, if you're into it..."

For the first time Yancy could remember, Chuck looked a little unsure of himself, as if he expected Yancy to be offended by the suggestion. It was cute, in a way, and Yancy smiled.

"Definitely into that," he said, flicking his tongue across his lower lip.

Chuck gave a crooked smile. "Good," he said, leaning forward to kiss Yancy. "Been wanting to come inside you since that first time I fucked you."

Yancy groaned, because that was fucking hot, and he wished they'd bothered getting this all cleared out of the way much earlier.

Chuck set back on his haunches, running his hand over Yancy's thigh. Yancy shifted to turn onto his back but Chuck held him in place.

"Stay like that," he said. "Better angle."

Yancy nodded. "Yeah," he said, a little breathless because this was unexpected. "Yeah, that's good, Chuck…"

Chuck rubbed Yancy's thigh, then slid his hand down over his ass and squeezed, before slipping into the cleft. He teased, skimming the pads of his fingers over Yancy's hole.

"C'mon," Yancy ground out, shifting towards Chuck slightly. "Want you..."

Chuck hummed and reached for the lube. The teasing stopped then, thankfully, and he worked Yancy open quickly, bringing him up to a third finger within a few minutes. He stroked over Yancy's prostate a few times, and Yancy gasped at the sensation, putting his palm against the headboard and pushing back on Chuck's hand, letting out a long, low moan.

"Ready?"

Yancy nodded. "Jesus fuck, yes. Yes."

Chuck huffed out a short laugh, then Yancy felt him line up and press in. He was slow at first, until Yancy pushed against him again.

"C'mon, can take it."

Chuck groaned and flicked his hips, hilting himself in one go. They moaned together, Yancy ending with a gasp of Chuck's name.

Chuck set a hard, quick pace, fucking into Yancy so deep his hips were flush with Yancy's ass on each thrust. His hands were everywhere, on Yancy's thigh, his ass, his waist, his stomach, and Yancy was almost overwhelmed, with how consumed he felt by everything Chuck was doing.

"Shit, Chuck, you feel so good, so deep, I'm—" He groaned and braced his hand on the headboard again. He couldn't move much, being on his side, but he rocked into each thrust as much as he could, needing as much of Chuck as he could get.

"Yeah," Chuck answered, and it was more breath than words. He moved a hand to the curve where Yancy's thigh met his hip and gripped, fingertips digging in, using his hold to give him more leverage as he thrust even harder. Yancy moaned and cursed again, and Chuck laughed. "Yeah, that's it…"

Chuck shifted and spread his legs further apart and then bent forward, rubbing a palm up Yancy's side and following the line up the underside of the arm Yancy had braced himself with. His cock stroked over Yancy's prostate with the new angle, and Yancy gasped—only to have Chuck claim his mouth before he could exhale.

The kiss was messy and a bit awkward, mostly teeth and not enough tongue, but the connection was what counted.

"Unh, fuck," Chuck ground out against Yancy's lips, thrusting forward hard and rolling his hips. "So close…"

Yancy nodded because he was too, his cock swollen and aching, but he wasn't quite—

Until Chuck reached down and wrapped a hand around him, pumping him tight, and Yancy groaned, bucking into Chuck's hand.

"Jesus, Chuck, don't—"

He came before he could finish asking Chuck not to stop, spilling over Chuck's hand.

"Yeah, Yance, shit…" Chuck rasped, eyes fixed on his hand still wrapped around Yancy before he closed them tight, fucking sharply into Yancy a few more times and then hilted himself, as flush against Yancy as he could get. He moaned as he came, deep and guttural, his hips jerking erratically.

Then his eyes met Yancy's and he grinned, dimples and all, and Yancy laughed, feeling light and spent and _good_.

Chuck pulled away and rolled onto his back. Yancy reached for a couple tissues and after they cleaned up, Yancy expected Chuck to get up as he usually did. Instead, he stretched his legs out, lazily rubbing his palm over the length of his torso.

After another minute or so, Yancy began to wonder what this was all about, exactly. Chuck always left without any sort of ceremony, and this was weird.

"Do you want a cab or..." Yancy turned to look at Chuck, who was staring up at the ceiling. "Is something wrong?"

Chuck laughed and patted his stomach. He looked at Yancy with a crooked smile and a dimple. "Exact opposite, 'm bloody fabulous. Was thinking though..." he paused and shifted, propping himself up on his elbow on his side. "Maybe this time I'd stay for breakfast?"

"Oh." Chuck slid a hand over Yancy's chest, running his thumb back and forth, just under his nipple. Yancy watched his hand work for a moment, a bit taken by surprise.

"If you're cool with it. I don't mean to intrude..."

Chuck began to pull his hand away, and Yancy snapped to, closing his hand over Chuck's, keeping it in place.

"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting... yeah, of course you can stay. But I have work tomorrow. Won't really be much of a lazy morning or anything."

Chuck hummed. "I was thinking of playing hooky from uni tomorrow. Any chance you've got some personal days banked up?"

Yancy considered this. It wasn't his style at all, calling in sick or taking random days off. One December they'd had to force him to take his remaining two weeks' vacation because he hadn't used them up yet that year. But it had been a little slower lately, after that one merger had closed, and it was a Friday...

"Yeah," he said eventually. "I can swing that."

Chuck grinned and leant down to kiss Yancy's chest, just above the spot their hands were piled over.

"You're a bad influence," Yancy said, stroking the back of Chuck's hand.

"Mm, I know," Chuck said against Yancy's skin, and then he laid his head down on Yancy's chest. "'M a regular deviant."

 

Yancy woke up at 6:28 am, two minutes before his alarm was set to go off—he hadn't actually heard his alarm in a long time, as set in his routine as he was. He turned the alarm off and looked down. Chuck's head was still pillowed on Yancy's chest, and Yancy smiled to himself at the sight.

Yancy went back to his phone and, ignoring the emails he'd received since he'd last checked it after the show, he typed a quick message to the partners to let them know he wouldn't be coming in. Usually he felt guilty and pored over those sorts of emails, even when he was seriously sick, but something about the weight and the warmth of Chuck's body tucked up against his own changed things.

Yancy put his phone down and sighed. He wanted to card his hand through Chuck's hair, looking soft and mussed as it did, but he didn't want to risk waking him up either. He had no idea whether Chuck was a light sleeper, but then that was something he was going to get to learn about him, wasn't it? Yancy smiled again and closed his eyes.

He woke up later, to Chuck's weight shifting to blanket him. Chuck was smiling up at him, chin cushioned on his hand.

"Mm... morning," Yancy said, voice still edged with sleep.

Chuck smiled again and moved his legs to straddle Yancy. " _Good_ morning," he said, tilting his hips down.

He was already a bit hard, and Yancy chuckled a little. "Is it?"

"Will be," Chuck said with a wink. He rocked his hips again, angling so that his cock rubbed up alongside Yancy's, humming low in his chest.

Yancy groaned, and Chuck leant up to kiss him. His mouth was warm and soft, and he sucked on Yancy's lower lip a little as he rolled his hips again. Yancy slid his hands under the duvet and cupped Chuck's ass. Chuck hummed into his mouth, rocking back into Yancy's hands before tilting forward again. Yancy groaned again and squeezed Chuck's ass, following his rhythm.

"You feel so good," Yancy murmured, lips against Chuck's jaw. And he did, all heavy warmth and hard dick. Yancy held Chuck flush against him and grinded their hips together.

Chuck moaned, breath ghosting past Yancy's ear. He turned his head and kissed down Yancy's neck and then he lifted up, bracing himself on one arm. He looked down and slipped his free hand between his and Yancy's stomachs, and clasped their cocks together. Yancy groaned at the heat of Chuck's cock so tight against his own.

"And you _look_ so good," Chuck said, looking back up at Yancy with a smirk. "Never would've figured you'd wake up with perfect hair, too."

Yancy scoffed and lightly smacked Chuck's ass. "Maybe 'cause I couldn't move all night? You ever sleep pinned to a bed by a rugby player?"

Chuck laughed. He stroked his hand up, passing his thumb over the heads of their cocks and stroked down again slowly, twisting his wrist as he went.

"What would you wager is the answer to that question?"

Yancy was too consumed by how good Chuck felt against him, around him, on top of him. His eyes slipped shut and he groaned, tightening his grip on Chuck's ass as a jolt of pleasure shot through him.

Chuck picked up the pace with his hand, and rocked his hips forward at the same time, his dick sliding up against Yancy's while his hand pumped them together.

"Worth taking the day off work, I hope."

"Fuck..." Yancy growled. "Wake me up like this more often and I'll quit the whole damn thing."

Chuck laughed, quiet and soft. "Well, we've got all of today, at least."

Yancy grinned, licking his lips. "It's a good start."

"It is just the start too," Chuck said, almost in a whisper, before leaning down to kiss Yancy.

Yancy hummed against Chuck's lips and brought a hand to the back of his neck, curling his fingers into his hair. He bucked his hips up into Chuck, who reciprocated, and they built a quick rhythm.

"Fuck." Chuck pulled away from Yancy and looked down between their torsos. "Wanna see you come, all over my dick."

"Jesus." Yancy gasped and canted up harder into Chuck's hand. "So close..."

"Yeah, shit..." Chuck flicked his wrist, stroking down and up again tightly, and then circled his thumb around their cockheads a few times. "C'mon," he growled.

Yancy moaned, lifting his hips and clutching at Chuck's ass as he came, clinging still to the back of his neck. "Gorgeous," he heard Chuck murmur before he let go of Yancy and stripped himself quickly. He came with a long groan across Yancy's stomach.

Yancy leant up and kissed Chuck, exhaling deeply through his nose. Chuck kissed him back, and Yancy felt his lips pull into a smile against his own.

Chuck rolled off, lying next to Yancy. "Way I see it," he started, turning to look at Yancy with a smirk, "that merits some sort of home-cooked breakfast..."

Yancy laughed as he reached for some tissues to clean himself off with. "That was your plan all along, wasn't it?" Chuck just shrugged, smiling innocently. "Brat..." Yancy muttered, reaching to ruffle Chuck's hair.

Before long, Yancy was standing in front of his stove in his boxers and a t-shirt, laying strips of bacon into a frying pan.

"What is that?" Chuck asked, sounding almost concerned from where he sat on the counter at Yancy's side.

"Bacon."

"No, that's not bacon."

"Turkey bacon _is_ bacon."

Yancy glanced at Chuck. His nose was all wrinkled up, and he was staring at the pan. " _Turkey_ bacon is _not_ bacon."

"Might want to take that up with every butcher in the city, then."

Chuck pouted. "If I go look in your fridge, am I gonna find real milk or some crap like almond milk?"

Yancy shrugged. "I keep both."

Chuck gave a long sigh as Yancy turned and moved to the freezer. He pulled out two liege waffles and popped them into the toaster next to the fridge. He turned around and Chuck had taken his place in front of the stove, tending to the bacon. Yancy leant back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

He almost felt compelled to ask Chuck how he thought this was really going to work. Because how could it really? Sure they'd had a great night, but like Raleigh had said last week, he and Chuck were like oil and water, and Yancy wasn't sure there was enough to bind them together in the long run.

He knew exactly what Raleigh would say to that. He'd say Yancy was an idiot for thinking about this shit now, after the night before.

"Y'know what I was thinking..." Chuck said then, before beginning to flip the bacon."About how funny it is that this is where we ended up."

Yancy quirked an eyebrow at Chuck's back. Interesting timing. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean, I wanted us to root basically right away, and then we did, and then we did _again_ , and I guess I just figured that'd all it'd be, right? We don't exactly have heaps in common; that's why I said I wasn't looking for a relationship or whatever."

Yancy turned to the fridge and grabbed a couple eggs. He rolled them around in his hand a few times. "You saying you realised before yesterday that you wanted more than just sex?"

Chuck reached for the platter lined with paper towel that Yancy had prepared and laid out the cooked bacon. He turned around with a half-smile and held out a hand to take the eggs from Yancy.

"Didn't you?" he asked as he cracked the eggs into the same pan.

"Yeah."

"When?"

"The day I mentioned the show. I'd had breakfast with Raleigh and he, uh... helped me sort things out, basically."

The toaster pinged behind Yancy and he set about putting the waffles onto two plates. He put them in front of the stools at the island counter and reached for the platter of bacon. Chuck was nearly done scrambling the eggs.

"When did you?" Yancy asked, moving the bacon to the island. "Realise, I mean."

"Ages before you," Chuck said with a wink. "Day or two before you called me up, all drunk from your work dinner."

Yancy turned back to look at Chuck, a little surprised. "Really? I had no idea..."

Chuck shrugged and moved to the island with the pan to dish out eggs onto each plate. "Remember when I gave you my number and I said that I didn't like to take calls?" He glanced at Yancy, and Yancy nodded slowly, putting the pieces together. "Well, I let you call me, didn't I?"

"Huh..." Yancy tried not to feel overly stupid for missing that detail. He sat down on one of the stools and poured two cups of coffee while Chuck put the pan back on the stove and sat next to him. "I didn't even think..."

Chuck laughed and put a hand on Yancy's thigh, squeezing twice before digging into his food. "I'll let it slide," he said, piling some eggs on his fork. "'Cause you're old, I mean."

Yancy scoffed and shook his head. "Br—"

"Brat—I know, I know," Chuck said, cutting Yancy off. He flashed Yancy a dimple and picked up a piece of bacon. He took a big bite, chewed a few times, and grimaced. "Your bacon tastes like shite, Yance."

Yancy smiled and reached for Chuck's discarded bacon. He popped it into his mouth with a shrug. "Acquired taste, I guess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew! hope you guys enjoyed -- i'm over on tumblr [here](http://rahleighs.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi :3
> 
> (also, in case anyone's curious, the band yancy & chuck go to see is [real estate](http://www.last.fm/music/Real+Estate))


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